


Maybe it's birds

by Square Pudding (Square_Pudding)



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Drinking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23889925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Square_Pudding/pseuds/Square%20Pudding
Summary: Rude and Reno contemplate some deep lore.
Relationships: Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Kudos: 29





	Maybe it's birds

"Hey Rude. What's a Turk anyway?"

Rude stared, not too steadily. "We're Turks."

"Yeah but I mean--" Reno waved his hands, muzzily hanging onto Rude's gaze over the tops of the many bottles between them. _"Why?"_

Rude took a moment.

"You mean why're we called that?" he asked.

"Yeah!" said Reno.

"Hrm..."

Reno leaned forward -- too far, really -- eyes wide and red-rimmed in a dead-sure sign they should've stopped drinking, oh, about 15 minutes ago.

He waited. Gradually, Rude's gaze slid from his partner down to the bottles and from there to an interesting knot in the wood grain of the table.

"...Well?"

Nothing.

On the other side of the table, Reno's face pulled into a moue of dissatisfaction. He leaned back in his chair again.

"I think it's birds," he said defiantly.

Rude stirred momentarily from whatever deep trench of thought he'd fallen into. "What?"

"Turk birds," Reno said, enunciating every consonant carefully as though they'd fall out of his hands if he wasn't careful.

Rude weighed this proposal for a long time.

"Nuh."

"Yeah huh!"

"No such thing."

"I had one."

"You had one?"

"Sure, inna sandwich."

"How big was it?"

Reno hesitated.

"About sandwich sized," he said, uncertain.

Rude was pretty sure birds didn't come that small. But as the silt began to settle around his thought-trench, a bigger issue emerged.

"Why would... they name us after a bird?" he asked.

This seemed to stump Reno. He sank further down in his chair, until only the top of his head was visible.

"Maybe 'cause we're in choppers a lot?" Reno's hair suggested.

That didn't sound right. Actually it sounded dumb as hell, which made it probably true.

"Might've been," Rude conceded.

"And that makes us a coupla shitbirds," said Reno's hair, with the crushing weight of remote but inevitable sobriety.

Oh, here we go. Rude tried to head this one off at the pass.

"You eat shit sandwiches?" he asked.

That neatly killed Reno's momentum. "What?"

"You said you had a turk sandwich."

"Yeah?"

"So if that's a shitbird, you're eating shit."

At that, Reno finally rediscovered the motor skills to pull himself upright again. He looked like a cat getting kicked out of a sunny spot.

"I don't eat shit," he said, with sudden and intense focus.

"Then we're not shitbirds," Rude concluded, with satisfaction.

Reno sat with this new information for a while.

"Yeah," he said finally. "Yeah, okay, yeah. Not shitbirds."

"Not shitbirds," Rude agreed.

"I like being not-shitbirds with you," Reno ventured.

"Yeah." Suddenly it seemed like they hadn't drunk enough.

END

**Author's Note:**

> idk man I just started tweeting while I was drinking and an hour later I had this.


End file.
